Porcelain:: Pt 2
by KikiKabuki
Summary: sequel series to ::Schirm:: series. -- PH SPOILERS. -- Raven reminisces about his past, and what he's lost out to, and is urged to win it back. But he just might break in the process; what if he's fought for turns him down..? -- Ch 3 still in progress.
1. Chapter 1: Spiel

::Porcelain::  
((an OzBert))  
sequel to ::Schirm::

Chapter 1: Spiel

"_Sunday, October 3_

_Bocchan has been acting strange lately.  
The other morning, when I went to wake the young master, he pulled me down under the covers with him and squeezed me like a pillow.  
And after that, while I was making breakfast, I spilled the flour bucket all over myself and the kitchen, and while Mrs. Kate was scolding me, Ozu sent her away and squeezed me again.  
So then I went to wash the flour off myself, but Bocchan told me I needed help and pushed me, fully-clothed, into the bathtub himself, fetching fresh clothes of his own for me to change into.  
I am concerned about my master. It's unlike him to show me so much attention—apart from teasing, that is. So, tomorrow morning, first thing after waking him, I have decided I will bring him his breakfast and inquire him immediately about when he plans on replacing me.  
Gilbert."_

Oz reread the shakily-written diary entry again, somehow unable to comprehend the last line. He'd been in the midst of another soon-to-be-victorious game of hide-and-seek in the mansion—(he always won, because he'd told Gil if he ever beat Oz, he'd sick Ada's kitten on him.) –when he found Gilbert's tattered journal book. It was worn out and the paper was frayed and yellow. And Oz Bezarius, being curious, mischievous, and now very intrigued, had pulled it from its hiding spot behind the shelf in the cellar (which he was using as his own personal hiding place at the moment as well.)

The blond wasn't one to see someone's diary, get nervous, and set it back where he'd found it. No, in fact, he was just the opposite. He delved into the journal with much enthusiasm, hungry to unravel the secrets of his cute little raven-haired servant, and use them against him. But instead of a deep, dark secret…instead of a weakness…Oz had found _himself_ in the diary. It was as if nothing else existed in Gil's world, but "Ozu-Bocchan". He looked at the date on the entry. October 3rd. It was now the sixth of October. And, contrary to what was foretold in the journal, Gil hadn't inquired of Oz anything at all! Especially anything about whether or not Oz was going to replace him.  
The fifteen-year-old Bezarius crawled out from his hiding spot and stood, putting his hands on his hips and calling in his best booming-master-voice:  
"GIIIIILLBERRRRRRRRRRRRT!"

A muffled crash, then scampering feet were heart, before the little, golden-eyed Gilbert scurried down the cellar stairs and over to Oz in a panic. His black-haired head stood about half a foot shorter than the blonde's. The height difference was especially accentuated by Oz straightening up intimidatingly and Gil slumping over like a scolded puppy.  
"Y-yes…Bocchan…?" Gil muttered. His knees were shaking. _This is it_, he told himself, _Master doesn't need me anymore. He's going to get rid of me now…_  
Oz folded his arms over his puffed-out chest,

"Care to explain what in the world you're thinking while writing something as brainless as _this_?" he held the tattered journal book out to Gil, shaking it slightly to gather his attention.

Gil's eyes widened at the sight of his master with his diary. All the secrets. All the confessions of dedication and what he was sure was the "love" that adults always spoke so smoothly of. Everything Gilbert thought and felt about Oz…it was all written in that book, dangling from Oz's own hands.  
Gil whimpered, "I-I'm sorry, I—"

Oz bonked the book lightly against the top of Gil's head,

"You said you were going to ask me something. Well, you have my attention. Might as well just ask me _now_."

Gil sniffled, shaking his head, "I couldn't possibly, master,"

"Gilbert!" Oz retorted, "As my servant, I am _commanding_ you: Tell me what this is about!"

The blonde held the journal in closer to the raven-haired boy, who gulped and squirmed,

"W-well…" Gil began in a tiny voice, "Oz is… Oz is so quick, and energetic, and strong and—… and… Gil can't keep up. Gilbert is so… useless. So powerless. I—…Gil simply wonders…when it is that Master… will get tired of having to wait up on him. When—… When Oz plan's to replace Gil."

Gil's eyes stung with hot tears. He sniffled once, twice, eyes glued to the floor worriedly. Oz watched him, a scowl forming on his forehead. He clutched the journal tighter in one hand and reached up, smacking it _hard_ against the side of Gilbert's face.

A loud "WHAP" was heard, and Gil jumped, hand immediately rising to clamp over his own now-stinging cheek. It turned red, where his master had just hit him on the face. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming from his eyes now. His whole tiny, frail body shook from fright, and stifling sobs. The still-scowling Oz dropped the journal, letting it fall to the floor, and grabbed the crying boy before him by the shoulders, shaking him firmly.

"Listen here: I don't want you _ever_ saying things like that again, do you understand?!"

Gil nodded, eyes still shut tight. Oz shook him again, gentler this time.

"Look at me," the blonde snapped lightly. Gil opened his eyes cautiously, looking up at him through dark eyelashes.

Oz sighed.

The wary golden gaze from the boy melted his heart. His voice was weaker when he continued:

"Gil…is not just a servant to me… Gil is a friend. Sure, I might pick on you a lot, but that's cause I _like_ you, dummy! I don't mind waiting for you to catch up, ever. Because you're _my_ Gil. My servant. And I've gotta make sure to always keep an eye on you and protect you from danger, right? That's the duty of a master."

Gil watched the blond lecture him, staring, wide-eyed up at Oz incredulously,

"But—"

A small finger was pressed against Gil's unexpectant lips and mischievous green eyes challenged the little servant boy as Oz leaned in closer.  
"This interrupted my game," he tsk-tsk'd slyly, "You owe me a new one."

Gil bowed quickly, wiping his tears with his sleeve,

"Of course! What would master like to play?"

Oz smirked, "Tag."

A quick peck on the lips and Oz had bolted off,

"YOU'RE IT!"

Gil blinked, head tilting. He touched his own lips with his fingers softly,

"…..kiss……tag…?"

He smiled softly.

"Thank you…… Oz." He picked up the diary Oz had dropped when running off, and set it back in its hiding place with a content sigh. He turned, determinedly,

"I'M GONNA TRY MY BEST THIS TIME, YOUNG MASTER!" he called, running off after him, _"No holding back!"_


	2. Chapter 2: Crossies

::Porcelain::

(( sequel to ::Schirm:: ))  
Chapter 2:  
Crossies

_"Gilbert…?" _

That voice. His voice. So close now, but just out of reach. Master's voice…

"_Gilbert…!"_

Just a little closer, just a little further, and that voice—

"RA-VEN!"

The brunette snapped awake, cold sweat caking his clammy skin. He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and focusing in on where he was. A small room; an inn. Reality punched him in the gut: It was a dream. _Again_. That same dream: The flashbacks of his past. Of his bocchan. Of…Of everything he wanted back. At least this time, he'd been woken up _before_ the Abyss in his dream took his master from his helpless hands. He sighed, looking to the blonde who stood at the side of the old couch Raven had slept on.

"O-….Oz?"

"Sheesh, it's about _time_ you woke up! It sounded like you were having a…./really/ nice dream…"

Alice clunked into the room clamorously, "Seaweed head's a pervert."

"Ore wa hentai janai, baka usagi!" The 24-year-old grumbled while sitting up on the couch. It was an ancient piece of furniture; creaky and smelly and gave Raven a catch in his neck. He stretched stiffly, "What time is it…?"

"Nearly noon," Oz scolded, "you slept in all morning, you old geezer."

Raven scoffed, standing slowly from the couch, while Alice—the little demon she was-tugged on Oz's sleeve obnoxiously and whined loudly for a bacon, ham, and steak lunch.

Raven tried to ignore it. He tried not to let it get to him: the way that Black Rabbit tainted Oz's heart. It was as simply as just that—she was a Chain. And she was USING Oz. She felt no affection towards him. Chains had no hearts. How could she _possibly_ love him the way…the way Oz's past servant did. The way _Gilbert_ did. But—

But that was Gilbert. This is Raven. The Raven who sacrificed his sanity, his blood and sweat, even his NAME, to save his master... His master who now was leashed up by that stupid sadistic Chain, Alice.

When Oz had come back from the Abyss, ten years after he'd fallen in, Gilbert—or rather _Raven_—didn't know what to do with himself. He'd been fighting those past ten years to acquire the power to save his master. To bring Oz back. Then suddenly, after all the sacrifice, it became meaningless. All because that stupid Black Rabbit had tricked Oz into a contracts and brought him back to our world.

So everything Raven had been working for: all his plans and hard work to save and bring back Oz. It all vanished. And Oz—

Oz, the one person Raven had dedicated his whole life to, didn't even remember his real name.

"Oy, Raven! You gonna make some lunch, or what?!"

The black-haired man stood from the couch, shuffling into the kitchen in defeat,

"Hai…" he muttered incoherently, "……Bocchan."

.

.

.

Raven sighed. He was annoyed. Of all the people he _didn't_ want to see at the moment…

"What do you want, Break?"

A creepy giggle, and the silver-haired man crawled out from the cupboard under the sink.

"Oooooohhuhuhuhuuuuu~!" the blue doll on Break's shoulder taunted, "Raven is so intuitive! Or…Break is simply bad at picking hiding places! Hu hu huu!!"

Raven rolled his eyes, shutting the cupboard after Xerxes crawled out from it, "Listen, I'm not in the mood. Really….I have—"

"You have _what_, Raven?" Break asked slyly, "A whole lot of nothing. That's what. Because you're not brave enough to tell him who you are."

Damn, Break sounded serious. And didn't waste even a second before scolding Raven for his lack of action-taking.

"You wouldn't understand," Raven protested irritably.

"Don't you want him back, Raven?"

"Of course I do, but it's not that easy.."

"He was _your_ beloved master first. Rightfully yours. All it takes is telling him that _you _are _Gilbert_."

"Oz doesn't need Gilbert anymore. He never did. And Gilbert doesn't need _him_, either. Gilbert is _dead_ to him. Gilbert is _dead_."

"Your heart says otherwise."

Raven broke, slamming a fist on the counter, "WHAT the HELL do YOU know about MY heart?! Why do you even care?!?"

Break didn't even flinch. He just wore that same blank smirk, though his eyes seemed to droop sadly.

"Your heart _is_ Gilbert. ….Raven, don't let Gilbert die."

The silver-haired man climbed slowly back into the cupboard as Emily hummed a sad, droning tune. He shut the cupboard door, leaving Raven alone.

"W-Wait, Break…" Raven called, calmer now, "How do I tell him…? How do I tell Oz that I—"

He froze.

The cupboard was empty.


End file.
